


A Dangerous Game

by Lobes92



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: 'That night', Adlock, But sometimes she is a damsel, Dark Past, Demisexual Sherlock, Don't ask them about Karachi okay, Epic Bromance, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, He's not in this story but he still knows, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Implied/Referenced Torture, In which Irene is a mix of Black Widow and Catwoman, Irene Adler Ships Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Irenelock, It was worse than Natasha and Barton's Budapest, Johnlock are Detective Bros, Just don't, Multi, No seriously don't freakin do it, Please Don't Hate Me, Romance, Sherene, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson Friendship, Sherlock Holmes and Feelings, Some Humor, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tony Stark knows, Tsundere Sherlock, bisexual irene
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 07:34:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5959012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lobes92/pseuds/Lobes92
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Irene Adler is a mysterious woman, no doubt. What had she been doing prior to becoming a professional dominatrix? That line of work doesn't exactly require combat and espionage skills. And how did she and Britain's most dangerous man come to work together?</p><p>Sherlock Holmes wants answers to these questions and more about The Woman he fell in love with. Unfortunately, whenever they meet, circumstances are almost always less than ideal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Dangerous Game

**Author's Note:**

> The initial inspiration for this story was the summer 2015 interview with Steve Mofat, in which he says, "If you remember earlier on in the story, Irene says, 'I make my way in the world, and my trick is I get people to be exactly where I want them, when I want them there. That's my super power. That's what I do.' Sherlock a few scenes later says, 'I'm the one guy you can't put a collar on' and at the very end… yep, he turns up dressed as an Arabian Knight and hacks up some terrorists… Some people say he won; he lost, because he admitted he cared..."  
> "And something like that happens between Irene and Sherlock every six months and THAT is their idea of a night of passion."
> 
> Adlock is canon as ever fellow shippers! Our yacht is sailing full speed ahead!!!  
>   
> Obviously the prologue pays homage to Natasha Romanov/Black Widow's interrogation scene at the beginning of _The Avengers_ movie!  
>  I had to use that entire scene; it's almost too perfect for Irene Adler! I'm a huge fan of Black Widow too!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just for fun, my homage to some of my favorite femme fatales.

.

.

An enormous abandoned factory loomed over the outer region of Moscow, next to a rail line frequently used to transport goods throughout the city.

Irene Adler sat, bound by rope to a hard, wooden chair that balanced on the edge of a toweringly high drop. Directly in front of her stood General Vladimir of the cryptic Russian "organization" she had been assigned to surveil; flanking him on either side were two of his brute agents, each carrying a semiautomatic. The third guard, who hovered over her, waved a pair of industrial-grade pliers in front of her eyes, chuckling darkly.

The general stepped closer to Irene and roughly backhanded her across the face, making her head whip to the side. She breathed heavily through her nose, willing herself to ignore the stinging pain; no doubt the tender skin had been broken.

"Who are you working for?" Vladimir asked in Russian. "Lermentov? Does he believe we need to go through him to transport some cargo?"

The agent to her left grasped hold of her chair and tilted it backwards, hovering her over the edge of the drop. Irene feebly attempted to halt it with her heels, but found it impossible to loosen the ties enough for her feet to dig into the floor. The Woman loathed heights, and though she knew their threats were empty at the moment, she couldn't stem the panic that arose upon glancing over the edge.

She knew her fear showed. It was almost easier to wear her usual mask of impassivity than express such emotions naturally.

"I... I thought General Solohob was in charge of business export?"

Vladimir laughed. "Solohob? A mere bagman, a front. Your outdated information betrays you." He made a small noise of disapproval. "Moriarty spoke highly of you, Miss Adler, yet you turn out to be nothing more than a pretty face."

Irene looked up, her expression a defenseless pout. "Y-You really think I'm pretty?"

The general smirked cruelly. "Tell Lermentov we don't need him to move our armory tanks," he turned casually toward the table off to the side, displaying a variety of crude and disturbing tools. The Woman knew exactly what they used those for. "Tell him he is out." He walked closer, she noted that one of the objects appeared to be a blowtorch, causing an involuntary shiver down her spine. "...Well, you may need to write it down."

His guards snickered.

Irene figured she needed to keep Vladimir busy talking to avoid coming to _that_ gruesome predicament.

The general nodded to the guard at Irene's left then and he grinned excitedly as he grabbed her jaw and head with rough hands, forcing it to tilt back. She could almost feel the bruises forming.

But just then, a phone rang.

It rang again.

The largest of the guards answered in Russian, "Da?" His hardened expression turned to one of confusion, and he furrowed his heavy brows. "It's for you," he announced as he handed the mobile to General Vladimir.

" _You listen carefully_  -- " the general growled angrily, but was cut off.

From their distance, Irene could hear the familiar voice over the phone. The corners of her lips curved upwards into a knowing smile when she recognized that unmistakable British tone.

" _Your current location is 1-14 Silensky Plaza, fourth floor, Southeast corridor,_ " Sherlock Holmes explained calmly, " _You have two trained operatives with AK-74s, and one with a combat knife. There is an F-22 exactly eight miles out. Put the woman on the phone or I will blow up the block before you can even reach the elevator._ "

Irene knew he was bluffing, but General Vladimir did not.

The color drained from his face. He was no longer under the illusion of control he had been throughout the entire interrogation. His eyes betrayed the fear that now lie beneath as he moved slowly towards Irene and placed the phone on her shoulder so she could balance it with her head.

" _Still 'misbehaving' it seems,_ " Sherlock teased on the other end. " _Need some assistance, Miss Adler?_ "

"You sweet man," she simpered, having switched back to English, and unable to calm the flutter of her pulse, "but what terrible timing you have; I'm in the middle of a...  _business negotiation.._ right now, darling."

There was a pause on the other end, then, " _'Business negotiation' is not quite the term I'd have chosen to describe your... predicament._ "

Irene laughed. "You wound me, Mr. Holmes, surely I thought you learned not to underestimate my capabilities?"

" _You and I must remember Karachi very differently._ "

 _Low blow_.

"You... just...  _had_ to bring up 'That Night'," she huffed, practically able to hear his arrogant, victorious smirk through the phone.

Irene's attention snapped back to the present when the ropes wound around her wrists chaffed painfully against the rawing skin.

"Really, Sherlock, I cannot be pulled out of this interrogation," she continued on a more serious note. "This moron is giving me everything."

At that, General Vladimir glanced between each of his guards, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, clearly unsure if he had misunderstood. "I not... Giving e-everything," he stuttered in heavily accented English.

Irene shot him a look and snorted.

Sherlock must have overheard the exchange since he chuckled, then asked, " _You're quite sure?_ "

"Duty calls, Mr. Holmes."

But then he dropped his voice to a seductive purr and whispered, " _Not even to have-- dinner?_ "

She froze. Her resolve shattered.

"Let me put you on hold," The Woman deadpanned and dropped the phone, catching the faintest sounds of snickering from the other end.

The adrenaline began pumping through her veins. Vladimir came forward to retrieve the mobile, and she jabbed a sharp heel into his calf. He doubled over in pain and shock, and Irene took the opportunity to headbutt him, ensuring he was out cold. Her mind had previously assessed and computed a series of plausible escape plans, now she was putting them into action. Still tied to the wooden chair, she aimed at the two advancing soldiers with a series of spinning kicks; manipulating the chair as a weapon by crunching a booted foot under its leg. Vaulting into the air again, she flew backwards onto the last soldier, causing him to crumple and smashed the wooden chair to pieces. She disentangled from the rope and propelled herself up into a standing position, heart beating erratically against her ribcage.

 

 ~~~~

 

Sherlock Holmes waited patiently, still holding the mobile phone to his ear.

He was only able to make out the distant sounds of painful, masculine grunts, yelps and crashes.

He could barely suppress the smirk that crept onto his normally placid face.

 

 ~~~~

 

Irene yanked away the assault rifle and bashed the butt of it into the guard's skull.

General Vladimir was stirring and coming to his knees, reaching for his 10 mm inside his coat. Irene grabbed one of the broken chair legs and darted over, swiftly knocking the gun from his grip. She then wrapped the lengthy chain around his legs securely. She hauled him over the edge of the four-story drop and left the man to dangle upside down, fifteen feet from the ground.  
The police would find him soon.

Irene went to grab the forgotten phone and straightened her red dress, brushing dirt off the hem.

"Six minutes and twenty two seconds, Miss Adler," Sherlock hummed approvingly.

"Well now, that's a new record."

.  
.  
.

Sherlock watched her stroll casually out of the rickety elevator inside the abandoned factory, as though she had been on an afternoon jog and not bound to a chair and nearly tortured by a group of Russian agents for information.

The Woman was truly astounding.

He began to analyze her features, deducing from the shallow creases of her silk dress and thinning remains of her make-up, that she had been trapped likely no more than 12 hours. The persperation on her skin suggested a struggle to which Adler had obviously come out victorious.  
There was significant bruising on her left shoulder and up on both sides of her jaw that were indicative of a large male hand having grabbed her; long, angry red marks were beginning to form down the length of her arm, which looked to be the result of splintered wood and the skin of her wrists was raw suggesting a medium of rope had been knotted around them.

He frowned when he noticed the left side of her face. Blood trickled down from the fresh gash.

"We should go out the back of the facility, Mr. Holmes," Irene said, "I rather not have us spotted by Russian police."

She beckoned him over to the double-doors secured with metal chain and a padlock.

Sherlock watched her curiously as she slipped a petite hand down the front of her dress into her cleavage to pull out what appeared to be a regular Bobby pin. Irene flashed a pearly-white grin at him, then bent down and began picking the lock.

"Where is it that you learn lockpicking?" the detective asked, immediately cursing himself after the words left his mouth for appearing interested.

Addler refused to make eye contact. "Oh you know...where I learned all my other skills from," The Woman answered cryptically. 

There was a faint 'click' and the padlock was released.

Irene placed the Bobby pin into her hair, then turned and grabbed Sherlock by the wrist. "Shall we, Mr. Holmes?"

**Author's Note:**

> Updates will be rather sporadic. I do NOT abandon stories, so no need to worry about that. 
> 
> Reviews would be lovely! I really want all the feedback/criticism I can get from you awesome readers!


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